


Midnight Oil

by sonderesque



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Development, Confusion, Developing Relationship, Freeform, Gen, Internal Conflict, M/M, Pain, Poetic, Post-Series, Reflection, Sad, Self-Reflection, Song Lyrics, Suicidal Thoughts, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-22 14:06:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9610748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonderesque/pseuds/sonderesque
Summary: Over and over, Izaya faces his demons: the ones he created and ones inside.This is a twisted story-a twisted story of growth, change and acceptance





	1. And When Your Fantasies Become Your Legacy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Adargo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adargo/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Nocturnal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5518187) by [Adargo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adargo/pseuds/Adargo). 



> Hello! This is not an original work but is more of a fanfic or a spinoff of Adargo's "Nocturnal."  
> You have to read that story in order to understand this one.  
> For those that have, this story's timeline is reverse to fanfic which means that the beginning is the very end of it.  
> These events happen between all of the more major ones and focus solely on Izaya's change and growth (it's more compact than the original though)
> 
> For Adargo: I hope you enjoy and know that your story has stayed with me for the past month. I doubt I will ever get it out of my head, seeing as I absolutely loved it. It hurt me over and over (in a good way) and I just loved the way Izaya was painted in a different light. Maybe it is possible for those firmly entrenched in their beliefs to grow as well

 

If he was being honest, Izaya had assumed the entire affair with Shizuo would be much harder that it actually was.

 

 **\---**  
_From walking home and talking loads.  
__To seeing shows in evening clothes with you_  
**\---**

 

Not that it was easy or anything, but it proceeded much smoother once they agreed to start over again, once they agreed to restart their toxic relationship that eventually poisoned them both. Restarting made so many more things things possible; if anyone had told him two years ago that he and Shizuo would become friends and even something more, the raven would have laughed in their face.

 

 **\---** _  
From nervous touch_ _and getting drunk.  
__To staying up and waking up with you_  
**\---**

 

Everything was different now. He was no longer the antagonist of the story. Izaya had everything that he deprived himself of, finally shredding the cloak that had _‘outcast’_ written all over it.

What was even better, or shocking, was that he might actually be experiencing genuine love, not the artificial, flimsy one he had for humans. It started with the movie and moved into their old habits, trying to find the delicate balance between the past and the present. Given time, the form of his relationship with the blond changed again, and the next thing Izaya knew, Shizuo saved him, like he had time and time again. His favourite moment, however, was creating music with the protozoan.

The music was so simple on the surface, but underneath it told the complex tale of their lives: crossing paths, separating and finally coming together again to create a beautiful piece. It wouldn’t have become so enchanting without the struggles they both went through, which led both men to discover what they were truly missing.

 

 **\---** _  
But now we're sleeping at the edge.  
_ _Holding something we don't need_  
**\---**

 

**Even with all those facts, this peace wasn’t something he would be completely used to.**

 

 

 

“What are you talking about?”

Izaya’s distorted image looked back at him. **“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”** His blood red eyes stared back at the real Izaya with determination.

 

This was his past self; the self that he could never completely erase. They were identical, mirror images of each other, but they could not be any more different on the inside.

 

“This is who I am now.”

 **“Yes it is,”** his fake agreed, **“but are you happy?”**

“I am.”

 **“I wouldn’t be. Human love is all I need.”** Ripples on the reflection began to form.

Izaya’s real body was parallel to his past self. His jaw was clenched tight. “That is _not_ who I am now.” He repeated, emphasizing each word, but the action appeared to be more to convince himself than to convince the past.

  **“Are you sure?”**

 _"Yes.”_ The raven said with more conviction.

 

His reflection analyzed him. He was searching for something, but for what, Izaya didn't know. Finally a smirk spread across the fake’s lips.

 

“What is it?”

**“You don’t sound very certain.”**

“I am.”

**“You repeated yourself.”**

“ _You_ aren’t listening.”

 

It was almost impossible to see his past self clearly. The waves had spread all over his body. That didn’t stop the reflection from leaning in to whisper in Izaya’s ear. He shivered when the fake’s breath hit his neck.

 

**“Orihara Izaya does not need love, because with love, all you will do is destroy it.”**

 

 

 

The body vanished into a pool of water, leaving the word to echo in the raven’s mind.

 

 **\---** _  
All this delusion in our heads  
_ _Is gonna bring us to our knees_  
**\---**

 

New bruises and scars had formed from the whole business on the island, Zeruan, and Dijnn, but the marks on his face that were clearly illuminated by the moonlight were not what he was actually seeing in the mirror. His delusions still rattled him, never allowing the raven more than three hours of sleep, which was steadily causing the informant more and more problems in the day. Shinra, Shizuo and Celty had gone so far as to say they would shove sleeping pills down his throat if this continued.

 

 _Over and over pieces of the scenes played in his mind, haunting him every damn night. Izaya’s thrashing and screaming became a regular occurrence._ The train tracks, the wolf, being lost, the voices; everything came back to him. It was impossible to out run.

 _Falling, constantly falling._ Izaya hated the feeling of being out of control. His crimson eyes betrayed the terror and fear that accompanied the visions.

 _Crows, crows meant death. And the crowds, the crowds suffocated him. The feeling of being lost was overwhelming._ It was like he was being buried alive. The informant constantly woke up gasping and covered in sweat. His heart refused to slow down.

 _Visions of the future._ My, those would have come in handy years ago. Now, he simply wished for them to vanish.

_The voices that whispered his name, that whispered seductively about how easy it was to let go._

 

“Let go?” Izaya ran his hands over his face and took a deep breath in. And out. And in.

 

 

 

_“Never."_

 

 **\---** _  
So come on let it go  
_ _Just let it be  
_ _Why don't you be you  
_ _And I'll be me_  
**\---**

 

Dijnn. What a scary man.

The raven couldn’t help comparing him to his past self. He used to long for destruction, for amusement, all to hide behind because he was far too weak to face reality. Izaya mocked everyone, causing them to all turn their backs on him. They didn’t trust him and he thought he didn’t care.

 

It was all a facade.

 

As for Dijnn, well, he was dangerous. He was delusional and had all the means to accomplish whatever he wanted. For some unknown reason, Izaya had a place in his plans. Saying that he had visions that the informant would help him was not enough justification. Perhaps he needed Izaya because they were far too similar. Or _was_ at least.

He was different now. He truly was.

And because of that, becoming partners with the strange man was impossible, even if his past self would have done it in a heartbeat. There was no doubt about that.

There was a time were Izaya simply wanted the world to burn and to drag down Shizuo while he was at it. That isn’t him anymore. That isn’t who he is.

 

Zeruan was the source of his doubt and his nightmares. It scared him almost as much as Dijnn. It was the truth, and he couldn’t deny it.

 

_After all, if he couldn’t get what he wanted, then he was going to destroy everything so that nobody got anything._

The worst part was, that was exactly how Izaya used to think.

 

 

 

It was like fighting a battle against himself.

 

 **\---**  
_Everything's that's broke  
_ _Leave it to the breeze  
_ _\---_

 

**“Run away.”**

 

“What?” The black haired man faced his reflection once again.”

 **“Run away. It’s so easy.”** His fake smiled, attempting to make the offer much more tantalizing.

Izaya’s eyes drooped slightly being lulled by the suggestion. “Where?” He asked drowsily.

 **“Whenever you want. Back to Shinjuku. Back to America. Better yet, the green fields of Russia.”** These images began to appear in the real informant’s mind.

“Why though? I’m happy.”

The reflection brought Izaya towards him. **“You’ve done it before. Doesn’t starting over sound good?”**

 

He smiled drowsily back. “It does… _Shizuo_.”

 

 

 

 

His doppelganger flinched as if scalded and disappeared into thin air.

  
**\---  
**_Why don't you be you  
__And I'll be me_    
**\---**

 

“I’m done.”

 

 **“Done with what?”** The fake asked in confusion.

“With you.” Izaya’s red eyes were deadly serious and his lips were set in a thin line.

The reflection laughed in disbelief. **“You can’t. I’m a part of you.”**

“Yes you are.”

 **“So that means you can’t walk away.”** Ripples began to form on his face again as he exclaimed the statement triumphantly.

The raven simply stared back impassively. “Watch me.”

 

 

 

And so he walked away.

 

 

 

 

 

All that was left was a puddle of water.

 


	2. No Love For A Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this upload took so long; I've been busy with other projects. Because this chapter is so long, I'll trying get a new one up soon.
> 
> Also apologies for my formatting, I'm doing it on my phone
> 
> Chapter Title: Dancing With The Wolves by All Time Low

 

 **\---**  
_From throwing clothes across the floor.  
_ _To teeth and claws and slamming doors at you.  
_ **_\---_ **

 

_Pain._

 

 

 

That's all there was to it.

 

  
Izaya had heard about the sense deprivation tanks that were extremely popular overseas and he figured his current situation was similar but instead of feeling or well, being, in the state of nothingness, he was feeling the sensation of every single cell in his body screaming at how much it hurt.

  
It hurts so fucking much

  
Nothing like sustaining injuries to remind himself of how human he truly was. There was nothing quite like this sensation out there.

 

 

He was _alive_!

 

 

He hadn't died from that absolutely ridiculous shot that was straight out of fiction. Nothing brought him down except for his own accord. Izaya felt alive, which was only a feeling he would experience on a good chase or whenever he was manipulating others. He survived in one piece, yes, but somewhere along the way the pieces of the puzzle that was his rivalry with Shizuo disappeared along the way, leaving only patches of what once was clearly defined.

He dragged himself off the ground, ignoring the burning sensation in his side, his broken arm, and the re-opened wound that was beginning to seep into his shirt. As he began to limp into the elevator, Izaya caught a glimpse of his torn up appearance in the reflection of a computer monitor. His face was distorted, making the scars all over his face and neck stand out. The bruises were massive on the black screen. The only thing that made the face even remotely similar to the face Izaya knew were the crimson eyes that looked back with grim determination.

He couldn't help but to think that those were the eyes of someone who was ready to die.

Izaya was ready to die, but nowhere in his itinerary said it was over guilt. He would do anything to destroy Shizuo, even if it meant dying with him.

   
An ache began in his chest, making him tear his eyes away from the hideous face that stared back at him.

 

  
_Why?_

Why what?

 

  
He knew the answer almost immediately.

Why did he want to destroy Shizuo?

 

_Simple._

Because Izaya hated him.

 

 

 

Did he really? Or was it because that's all he's ever known?

 

 **\---**  
_If this is all were living for, why are we doing it, doing it, doing it anymore?  
_ **\---**

 

Izaya stumbled into the elevator, desperate to leave before Shizuo arrived, or it would all be in vain. His hand brushed weekly against the button, only barely hitting it hard enough to activate.

 

Orihara Izaya did not feel doubt.  But he wasn't Izaya of the present right now. 

He was in the past, wondering where it all went wrong.

Wondering if this could have ended differently, if maybe in another life he was sitting on a couch with his friends eating hot pot. Should he have listen to Shinra that day? Should he have not been so antagonistic towards Shizuo this whole time? Should he have tried to mend their relationship early on instead of letting it grow into such a troublesome situation? Would that have changed anything?

 

No. It wouldn't have.

 

 

Shizuo was the one who made the first move. He was the one that was hostile, not him. Izaya would never let anyone know, but it bothered him to think that Shizuo didn't even give him a chance. He never even gave ‘them’ a chance. _Shizuo_ saw straight through Izaya’s bullshit, and called him out immediately.

 

Izaya hated it.

 

 

 

On some deep level inside of his fractured heart, he hated that a person who could see right through him treated him like that. Was he really that bad of a person back then? Did he not deserve anyone who truly understood him?

Everyone around him was impossible to form a relationship with. They fit in, and although Izaya knew he could've easily done that, he wanted someone to be an outcast with him, but that outcast he met hated him the moment they met eyes. _That_ outcast had friends that accepted who he really was.

Izaya didn't, although he supposed he deserved it. Deserve to be left out because he wanted to be left out. He wanted to be left out, but accepted.

 

My, was he a contradiction.

 

 

Well either way, he hated Shizuo.

He hated Shizuo because he had everything he wanted.

 

Izaya had a motto for that. If he couldn't get what he wanted, he would make sure that no one else did.

 

 _Jealousy_.

What an ugly emotion.

 

 

 

The elevator opened, and Izaya hobbled out, ready to destroy everything in his path.

 

All the while, neither of them realize they were each other's reason to live and keep moving forward.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Izaya is known for having a lot of self-confidence and rarely shows doubt (I can only think of one case). But, I figured that if there was another place he showed doubt, it would be in this chapter. He would never fully regret the things he's done, but at some point he must've wondered why things got so bad. Shizuo in Nocturnal is also shown to ask himself why he didn't give Izaya a chance back then.
> 
> This will be the most canon into the show I will be in the story. Most of it will be focused on the original fic.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed and comments and kudos are always appreciated :)


	3. This Town Isn't Big Enough For Both Of Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Unedited... apologies
> 
> Title- Just One Yesterday ft Foxes by Fall Out Boy

 

Bitter, bitter darkness.

It's surrounded him, just like the weight of the things he left unspoken.

 

 **\---**  
_I used to recognize myself  
_ _It's funny how reflections change  
_ ** _\---_**

 

Maybe he should've cherished those sparingly few, but genuine, happy moments. Maybe he should've told his sisters that he loved them and told the team how grateful he was for their help. Maybe he should've told Shizuo he was sorry over the phone, if not in person.

 

**“Sorry? What for?”**

 

Ah. This always happened, chasing him down mercilessly each time.

Unforgiving. This voice spoke jaded words that criticized his every move.

Izaya hated him, even if he was a part of who he was.

 

He turned around to face it. His past, his God that ruled over his thoughts.

 

“I might have not been like that before, but I can I've met that I regret my actions. Because of this, I caused us both unnecessary pain.” Izaya was better than this. Those same empty blood red eyes are the ones he was scarily familiar with. He was not going to be intimidated by the person he once was. 

Izaya was not the same. He would never be the same again.

 

**“Unnecessary pain, you say? Well, then where did those sacrifices go? We put our lives on the line to kill this monster! Our life may not be too significant, but as long as Shizuo was gone we would be content! I would be content! The majority of our life was spent trying to destroy him! Just because he's stable right now doesn't mean that the bomb has been defused! What will you do when he lashes out and kills you?!”**

 

 

Past? No. This wasn’t purely his past. 

 

Izaya of Shinjuku was more analytical, cruel, heartless, blunt, and charming, among other things. He would have never let his emotions cloud the grey morale he donned with pride. These were his thoughts personified in the person he once was.

These were his doubts. His fears. His epiphanies. His conclusions.

And his deepest, darkest secrets.

Izaya’s voice lowered significantly, just falling short of a whisper.

 

“I'd let him. It's what I deserve anyways.”

 **“You're letting it go just like that?”** The other asked, sneering at that statement.

“Not as easily as that, no. I just fought for our city. My city. I just fought for peace and won with the help of everyone else. I want to celebrate and live!” Izaya spoke to heatedly. This was more emotion than he would let anyone see, but he didn't care at all. He was speaking to himself.

 

 

He would set the truth free.

 

 

Izaya began to pace towards the fake, the lie, the embodiment of who he was.

“As fun as it was to destroy things and cause chaos, it was so artificial! That was when we, I, was still naïve in unaware of the truth.”

His doppelgänger stepped back for every step Izaya took forward. **“What?!”**

“It feels so empty and alone without trust! Without genuine connections!” 

 

Izaya's crimson eyes remained determined as he flung each word at the one who looked at him with fright. Here were the thoughts that remained locked in his heart.

 

 

He was setting them free.

 

 

And because of that, the weight was slowly disappearing.

“This is who I am now. Take it or leave it.” Izaya began to walk away.

 **“You said you'd let him, but then you spout that nonsense. Which is it?”** The fake asked weakly, yet he managed to hold some slight malice as well.

 

Izaya stopped in his tracks, but didn't make a move to turn around.

 

“If that's what makes the fighting away, if that's what it takes, I will pick that choice every time. But right now, I'm going to struggle. Struggle to live and struggle to accept. I'm not going to turn my back on the hand that has been offered to me.” 

“You, however I will.”

 

 

 

Izaya continued walking, not once turning back.

 

 **\---**  
_When we're becoming something else  
_ _I think it's time to walk away_  
**\---**

 

Change.

 

 

 

Yes, he had changed, making it impossible to determine who he was now.

This was the first time he had talked to Shizuo without involving any violence. Albeit, he was stuck in bed with tubes hooked up to machines, which meant he couldn't do much, but still, it went well didn't it...? Right...? Shizuo said he was nothing like Izaya. He wasn't, that's true, but that's what Izaya's goal was. To turn him into a monster in everyone's eyes because he couldn't accept that Shizuo was loved and admired for who he was.

 

Izaya's head hurt, and it wasn't because of the fight or the drugs coursing through him.

 

 

 

Things were changing _too_ fast for him.

 

Was it time to leave? But then what was the point of coming back to the city he left behind?

 

Then will he stay in some fun at all? The last time he confronted his problems head first, he almost died.

 

 

Izaya still felt like dying.

He was different. The doubt, this uncertainty over his next move, future plans, was not who he was.

 

Who was he anyways? Who was this Orihara Izaya?

Was he just a mere remnant of his past and a fight gone wrong? Or was he better than all of this?

The reflection in the mirror always seemed fractured to him anyways.

 

 

 

Izaya wasn't a whole.

 

 

 

He was a snake shedding its skin.

But what if he was shedding his past, who was he now? Who was this person living in his skin?

 

Izaya didn't know anything at all.

 

\---   
_So come on, let it go  
_ _Just let it be  
_ _Why don't you be you  
_ _And I'll be me?_  
\---

 

Acceptance was key.

 

Izaya needed to move on from what happened that night. He had spent enough time wallowing in self misery; it was the perfect moment to rip off that Band-Aid.

Things were going to change. It was only natural.

 

He's just human after all.

 

Moving on huh?

He was trying, but knowing his luck, something is about to go wrong. It always did. Izaya was the one who messed things up anyways. It was always his fault things went wrong.

 

 

Is moving on the same thing as acceptance?

 

**\---**   
_Everything that's broke  
_ _Leave it to the breeze_   
**\---**

 

Like bubbles rising to the surface, a thought arose from the depths of Izaya's subconscious.

What was this feeling?

 

 _Happiness?_  

Well, if it was, then he thought that this emotion in itself was beautiful.

 

And just like how bubbles clumped together, these thoughts formed a duplicate yet again. The Devil's Advocate. Who needed his that when his past could just remind him about all his mistakes? 

 **“But there are just too many to choose from, what did you expect?”** Amused, almost as if he was going to burst into mocking laughter. 

 

Izaya used to hide his true thoughts and emotions, but now, they were crawling up, bursting through the ground he stood on.

 

“Nothing really. I guess I just forgot I used to do that to other people. I've been doing that to myself.” Izaya smiled ruefully.

He saw his mirror image frown in displeasure. **“So you've realized that you're happy and are now trying to get past this part in your life aren't you? To move on, right?”**

Izaya rolled his eyes. “I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that you weren't pleased with my character development.”

 **“To be blunt, I'm not. It's impossible for you to just leave that experience behind. You can't pretend it never happened.”** This time he was using his words to persuade the current Izaya.

 

This time, it was trying to tell him something of substance, but they fell on deaf ears.  Izaya was not going to let the past have a say in his life anymore.

 

“Watch me.”

**“This is the same as running.”**

"I’m moving forward.” Izaya stated stubbornly.

His doppelgänger sighed as if it was the mature adult between them. **“You're staying still. This isn't acceptance. This is denial.”**

Crimson eyes flashed with anger. “All you've ever done is slow me down, poison, and discourage me! You've always been against me! Tell me. Why should I listen to you now?”

The fake smile sadly; a strange look Izaya couldn't recall ever making. He began disappearing.  **“Yes, that's what I've done, and yes, maybe you shouldn't trust me, but have you forgotten who I am? As much as you'd like to think of me as a separate entity from you, I'm not. I _am_ you. I've always been you. You're fighting against yourself Izaya, and it's up to you to decide who's the victor.”**

 

Izaya's face crumpled as the reality of its words, his words, struck him. They were one in the same. Either way, a part of him would lose.

 

“Then tell me. What do I do?!” He cried out.

**“You accept. Don't forget-”**

“Don't forget what?!

 

But it was too late. His alter was gone.

 

 

 

Leaving it behind was harder than he thought.

 

_**\---**   
_ _Why don't you be you?  
_ _And I'll be me?_   
**\---**

 

_Impossible_

 

Maybe it was impossible for him to do it. Maybe it was impossible for him to move forward.

It scared him so much to stay the same forever.

 

 

_Confusion. Doubt. Uncertainty._

 

 

Who was he anymore?

 _Past, present, future._ What version was he?

Izaya dwelled on the past, lived in the present, and looked towards the future. But this weight, this weight, was dragging him down.

 

Why wouldn't let him go?! Everyone was moving on without him.

 

 

_Why?!_

 

 

Was forgetting that hard? If he forgot, then there was no need for all this trouble.

But- but if he did, would he be the person he was in the past? Who would he be if he forgot?

Would this reality cease to exist if he disowned the past?

 

Maybe he wasn't _meant_ to forget.

 

Maybe he was meant to take it and carry it with him like a cross, carry it so that it wouldn’t slow him down anymore. It would always be there, a ghost of the devil on his shoulder. No matter what, he couldn't let it go.

 

 

There was no before and after.

This is who he was.

 

The past was his God. And everyone knew what gods did.

It didn't matter if it was life or death; they would create. It created who he was and who he is.

 

 

 

Izaya couldn't be more grateful.

 

**\---**   
_And I'll be me  
 **\---**_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!


	4. I've Learned From the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I've neglected this quite a bit, and I'm so very sorry! I'm crossing my fingers that this will make for it, even just a little.  
> Pardon my mistakes, I really wanted this up ( ^ ^ ;)
> 
> Title- Where Do I Begin by Runaground

 

_**\---**  
Trying to fit your hand inside of mine  
_ _When we know it just don't belong_   
**\---**

 

There were many things one could forget over the years, but it would be impossible for Izaya to ever forget the pleasure of sinking into the leather chair behind his wooden desk and typing away in a rhythmical pattern on his computer.

 

He was sitting there in his sacred spot once again and relished the familiar feeling of the soft cushioning behind his back along with the dizzying, euphoric sensation that took over him when he spun around in lazy circles. His fingers brushed the keyboard lightly and mimicked the motion of pressing the keys down without physically turning on the computer.

It brought back some nostalgic memories of peacefully silent evening when Izaya and Namie would work individually, rarely uttering a single word, save for the moments when he needed a break and had gotten bored or when his secretary was leaving. They weren’t anything extraordinary or even special, but something had to be said for those chaos-free times too.Those were the days- the days where Izaya was really ‘Izaya’, the man whose name could bring a shiver, a hint of disgust or a look of respect with a single mention. Now he was presumed dead by the majority of the city who was uninvolved with him and with an unconfirmed status for the ones that truly knew him and what he was capable of.

This secrecy was a bit much, even for him, but it would help as he got to the bottom of the message. He would be able to do the thing he was best at- destroying an enemy with all his power- and protect a city he didn’t even realize he cared so much about.

Izaya had been realizing a lot of things recently, and these epiphanies were bringing about a whole new set of emotions.

 

Ever since he arrived in Ikebukuro, the distinction between the Orihara Izaya that sat in this very spot two years ago and the one that sat there now became clearer and clearer as time passed. He was becoming a stranger in his own apartment, but the strange thing was, Izaya had a feeling that this change was for the better.

Now it was up to the city to prove him wrong, or right, on that.

 

 

With a conflicted heart, determined eyes, and steady hands reflecting in the black monitor, Izaya reached over and turned the light on.

 

_**\---**  
There's no force on this earth   
_ _Could make it feel right  
_ _No_   
**\---**

 

The cool night air caressed Izaya’s face, almost like a lover’s embrace, while the moon above him glowed in welcoming.

 

Izaya, being used to Russia and how simple life was there, had almost forgotten what it was like to walk through the never-ending streets of Ikebukuro. The city was as alive as ever, making the country-tamed raven a tad claustrophobic. That new feeling was okay though; it was just another sign he had changed. What hadn’t changed, however, was his absolute loyalty to this metropolis. People often said that you didn’t realize what you had until it was gone, but Izaya would hold on so that Ikebukuro would never be ‘gone.’

A thought flitted into his head. He couldn’t have possible denied it. His past self might have, but after vanishing for so long, his perspective had been altered, even if it was just a bit better than before.

Once, Izaya would have easily given up his life to destroy someone who he hated for the sole reason that the other hated him, but now- now it was different. He would gladly give up his life to protect this city of his. The male wasn’t entirely sure how this worked, this whole concept of ‘genuine’ love and loyalty that he was just discovering the true meaning of threw him him off, yet he wouldn’t have traded this sense of purpose- the sense that his life had any sort of resemblance to his old one, or a clear one of any sort- for anything in this world.

Izaya had to admit that it did feel odd trying to save the city that he had also left in chaos a year and a half ago, and that aligning these current ideals with his old one didn’t necessarily bring him ease, but nothing would be able to change it anymore.

 

He didn’t understand it- any of this- at all.

 

Izaya looked at everything around him. The faceless people were beginning to be something other than mere grey figures in the background, the flashy lights on almost all the stores on the block, countless posters plastered on any inanimate object in sight and the black curtain that was the night draped over it all being pinned in place by the silver moon and stars were all part of Ikebukuro- were all part of _his_ city.

He found it absolutely beautiful.

 

Izaya would not let anyone take this away from him. He would not let these trivial feelings deter him from his goal. He would separate his personal feelings, as unclear as they were, from his work.

 

 

 

Bowing his mask-less face down, the raven let a hint of a smile play on the edges of his lips as he vowed to crush anything that would even threaten to harm Ikebukuro.

 

**\---**   
_When it's too heavy to hold  
 **\---**_

 

It wasn’t very often that Izaya would sit on the roof of his own apartment, but this was an exception.

 

He only ever went up when there were too many racing thoughts for him to fully process and organize, or when he simply didn’t have the time to walk around like he usually did. In this case, it was both. His insomniac ways were coming back full force. He couldn’t help it; there were just so many things he needed to do.

Breaking onto the roof was a simple task that only took Izaya a minute or two to open using some bobby pins that Namie had left scattered around his apartment. He used to have a duplicate of the key, but it must have been left back in Russia or the safehouse he was in after the ‘incident.’ If it was, Izaya refused to go back. The pain wasn’t worth it. Because he wasn’t on the streets and there was no danger of anyone spotting him up on the one of the tallest buildings in the city, the raven decided to wear his warm fur coat to shield him from the whipping wind that whirled around him. There was also no need to hide his face with the porcelain mask.

It was like time had been turned back again. Orihara Izaya, the most feared information broker in all of Ikebukuro, was on a roof looking down at all his humans walking around at even 2 am.

He almost scoffed out loud. Izaya hadn’t thought like that in ages; it felt foreign to think that way. Once upon a time he would have made it publically know that he was trying to save Ikebukuro just to stir everyone up, but this time around, he was willing to stay in the background and deny what exactly he had done.

The fur that lined the edges of his hood tickled his face as the freezing wind blew by. Izaya’s face remained blank as he stayed captive to his intrusive thoughts that no matter what he did, he could not get rid of. His hands were stuffed in his pockets in a half-attempt to stay warm, and his legs were dangling off the sides of the building facing the light-polluted districts, yet even with all those distractions, Izaya remained numb to all of them. Physically he was on that roof, but with those glazed-over red eyes, anybody could tell he was anywhere were there.

Izaya had only been in the city for a short while and so many developments had already been made. Life constantly moved forward, slowing down for no one. There was a reason why many people wished for more time, always just for a moment more.

He had never thought that someone would sweep in and threaten Ikebukuro when he was gone, but to be fair, he tried to refrain from think about the city at all, which he failed miserably at. It was Izaya’s home and source of his nightmares. His Achilles heel.

 

Well, saying that was unfair.

 

Ikebukuro itself did not scare the raven. But the people he had left behind, especially a certain blond, scared him. Anything with Shizuo was already guaranteed to bring him debilitating fear and anxiety; all one had to do to understand how terrifying it was in real life just needed to multiply that feeling by a hundred. Saving the bodyguard in that bar had already sent Izaya sprinting away and Shizuo hadn’t even seen his face yet, but now that they had met face-to-face- now that he knew Izaya was alive and breathing, things were about to get extremely complicated.

In order to save this city, Izaya would have to face the one that he tried to kill- the one who almost killed him- the one that forced him to run away and gave him indescribable trauma- all over again.

He was not invincible. The raven was willing to admit that now. Another encounter with that man might even result in the death that he barely escaped almost two years ago. Those scars had not yet fully healed and Izaya doubted they ever would. He was different now. Izaya had lost his way of thinking that he was God, that he was invincible and could take anyone- everyone- on without being hurt. He used to think that being alone and isolating himself would be fine.

 

He _was_ Orihara Izaya, the man who could do anything. That sure as hell wasn’t who he was now.

Izaya was fragile, and weak, and injured, and broken. He wasn’t God and he wasn’t invincible. He was a coward that should have died a long time ago. And above all, he was human. Izaya tried to stand his ground and ultimately failed. Fate let him survive, giving him this choices months later.

 

_Save Ikebukuro, or let it be razed to the ground._

 

Izaya chose to save it, but by no means was this going to be an easy task. With an undetermined amount of bombs and a faceless threat, this was not a battle in which he could fight alone and win. No one trusted him and on top of that, Izaya was ‘dead.’ It was up him to him to gain their trust for the sake of the city. He would swallow his pride and atone for all the things he had done on the opposite side. Izaya had to convince them he was back, and not as an antagonist this time.

Everyone was a protagonist in their own stories, but even he could admit he was an awful person.

 

Would the past Izaya have become the enemy again for the sake of ‘ _entertainment_ ’, or would he have chosen to protect the city because he was the only one that was allowed to destroy it?

He didn’t know anymore. In the depths of his grey morals, a sense of right and wrong began to form.

Maybe this time would be different. Maybe he wouldn’t be all alone in this battle. Maybe he would gain some friends and allies, maybe even some valuable knowledge along the way. Or maybe he would die trying.

 

 

Whatever the case was, Izaya had to keep facing- pushing- forward and hope all the weight on his shoulders would disappear one day.

 

 ** _\---_**  
_Think now it's time to let it slide_  
 ** _\---_**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a lot of things that were just repeats of what had already been stated, which is why a lot of it is repeated. It's just such a big deal for Izaya that really wanted to emphasize that. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed~ Thanks for reading!


	5. But You Will Remember Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow~ *actually has it up in less than a month*  
> From now on these will get a bit shorter because I'm wrapping it up, but I hope that it still has the big effect I I try and go for in each chapter
> 
> Title- Centuries by Fall Out Boy

 

 **\---**  
_So come on, let it go  
_ _Just let it be  
_ _Why don't you be you  
_ _And I'll be me_  
**\---**

 

The pavement was cool against Izaya’s back pressing flat against it. He could feel the grits digging into his back, but besides being slightly uncomfortable, there was no immediate urge to get up. 

 

Izaya couldn’t hear anything clearly; it was almost as if he was submerged underwater on land. Everything felt miles away, even though he was right there. His body was facing up towards the stars, waiting for heaven's judgement. The raven was paralyzed. Every bone in his body was broken, but no words or incoherent screaming made it past his lips. The agonizing pain was only now hitting him. It almost caused him to blackout from shock. Izaya wasn’t dead, but he might as well have been.

Without warning, a wild terror seized him. He wasn’t dead, which mean only one thing: Shizuo was going to finish him.

Izaya wouldn’t be able to defend himself. Shizuo was going to end him.

 

He was going to die here.

 

Izaya attempted to drag himself away and tried reaching for the knife buried in his side, perhaps using it to buy even the slightest bit of time to get away. The dread only grew stronger and the burning underneath his skin increased with every second.

This was a battle he was fated to lose.

 

The raven could only stare in horror as a stop sign was plunged into his heart. Out of all the ways- having his heart literally stopped was the unexpected.

 

Izaya lurched up on his bed with sheets wrapped around his chest and legs, trapping him in place. Sweat that ran down his back and down his face made his black shirt cling onto him. His heart pounded wildly as he staggered out of his bed and to an upright mirror that was covered in sinister shadows from the moonlight that shone through his open windows. He refused to close because it made him claustrophobic and darkness twisted everything he saw.

A light breeze made its way into his room making the edges of his shirt flutter up. His stab wound made itself visible in the mirror. It was an ugly, but faint, scar that would never cease to remind him what happened in Ikebukuro that night. Because of Celty, it didn’t hurt him at all, but like any memento, it served to bring back the things he tried to suppress. 

Izaya was beginning to look like the person he was before, excluding the bandages that wrapped the entire length of his arms. He would recover, albeit slowly and painfully, but he would. Mentally, however, Izaya wasn’t sure. His hair was sticking out in all directions and his habit of running a hand through it when he was stressed didn’t help fix his disheveled appearance at all. Distinct black shadows were present underneath defeated crimson eyes. Maybe saying that he was beginning to look like himself was an exaggeration.

 

Orihara Izaya would have never let himself look or feel so weak. Then again, he hadn’t been _‘Orihara Izaya’_ in a long time.

 

Regardless of what he had said, Kine still bought him sleeping pills, but didn’t force him to take it. They were for emergencies, when the nightmares were so bad that Izaya was forced to give in. He swore himself to prove Kine wrong, even if it came to the point that they had to forcefully shove them down his throat. The raven wasn’t stupid; he could see the concerned looks those two exchange after Manami asked how he slept and Izaya answered with the obligatory ‘fine.’

That self-control was draining away, and he found himself reaching for the container.

He slumped down against the wall across from the mirror, refusing to break eye contact with his reflection. Izaya clutched the bottle close to his chest.

 

_It was so easy._

 

He could end it all right now. He could leave the world by taking all of his pills. Everything would disappear, including this unshakeable trauma and the past that dominated his present. Maybe it would be better if he was gone. That’s what he should had done a long time again. A single tear escaped, eventually snowballing into quiet sobbing in the silence of the night and the silence of the night and the coldness of who he was and the uncertainty of what he had become.

 

 _Weak_. He was so weak. This is what it meant to be human. Or even less.

 

 

Between he and Shizuo, Izaya was the true monster. This time, he would succeed in destroying it.

 

* * *

 

Shizuo had never been able to fully control his superhuman strength, especially if the other person had done anything to offend or harming anyone he cared about. Orihara Izaya fell in all of those categories. The flea was a bug that refused to be crushed. Well, up until now.

 

“Kill me! I dare you!” Izaya laughed loudly, even as he was being lifted up into the air.

 

He was not in control of his body. Shizuo would only watch as his own hands began to wrap around the smirking informant’s neck. Never in his life had he ever killed a human being, although he had been close to multiple times. The only time he had ever been prepared to was on _that_ night. Shizuo never wanted that to happen again, but here he was, about to kill the source of his grief once and for all.

The bodyguard saw Izaya and his taunts through rage-colored glasses. Celty was not here to stop him. No one was. 

Deep inside his body, the real Shizuo attempted to gain control over his body again. He refused to go through this once more. He didn’t want to kill Izaya! This was not how he wanted this to go. Their fights had gone far beyond dangerous; it became fatal for both sides. Shizuo’s hands tightened around Izaya’s neck. Through it all, he kept smirking with disgusting consistency.

 

“Look Shizu-chan! There was no need for me to prove you’re a monster! You’re doing it all on your own!”

 

That was the final straw. A sickening snap echoed loudly.

Izaya was dead. Shizuo killed him again.

 

He regained control of his body and fell to his knees with crippling guilt. The blond could no longer tell if he was awake or simply dreaming.

Was Izaya dead or alive? Was he a murder or an innocent?

Could he still be considered as a ‘good person’ after all of this? Is this what innocent people did, dreaming about murder?!

 

 _No_ \- neither of them were innocent.

They were both equally to blame a each other’s downfall. But that thought wouldn’t lessen his guilt at all.

 

As much as he hated to think about it, only seeing Izaya’s face once again would soothe this unrest in his heart, even just a little.

 

 **\---**  
_Everything that's broke  
__Leave it to the breeze_  
**\---**

 

It was just another one of those sleepless nights. Once again, death and despair followed him mercilessly.

 

Izaya couldn’t muster enough energy to drag himself out of his bed and perhaps grab some coffee or tea to calm his nerves down. He simply flipped his drenched pillows over and dropped his head on the cold sheets. Izaya stared up at his white ceiling with restless energy flowing throughout his body. The raven was too tired to go to sleep, plus, he couldn’t outrun his demons when he was asleep. They were less frequent ever since he had gotten over his denial but when they did visit, they were a million times worse. It only happened on rare occasions though. Most days, he was dreamless for the sole reason that he would stay up until he passed out from exhaustion.

 

Izaya wished he could just vanish.

 

Maybe he should have died that night; it would have been the only decent thing he could do for the citizens of Ikebukuro. It would have been the best favour he would have had the pleasure of granting. To be fair, nothing was stopping from committing suicide right now, but even in the pits of shame and self-hatred, killing himself was something that would never ever feel right to Izaya.  Even he wanted to die, he would hold onto life and suffer, because like it or not, this was his second chance he didn’t expect to live.

The raven was fully aware of how tenuous his hold was as he was being driven out of the city. Izaya accepted it before. He couldn’t now. There was nothing to live for, but there was nothing to die for either. It was suffocating, lying in bed like that. He was trapped his own room, in his own mind, and he couldn’t just pick the lock to escape. There was more to it than that though.

 

On nights like this, Shinra’s words haunted him. " _Pathetic_." Shinra, his best friend- his only friend- called him pathetic, and weak, and stupid. The doctor screamed about how unfair he had been, to play with all of them about how emotionless he was, and the final straw- the final straw had been when Shinra told him to never come back.

Izaya had never feared the word ‘ _goodbye_ ’ more than he did in that moment.

 

How was he supposed to find what he was looking for when he didn’t know what it was? Izaya was set adrift, without a purpose or a goal. Just a piece of trash whirling around the gale of life. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe it wasn’t.

 

All the raven knew is that he preferred to fly.

 

Izaya was broken, but he refused to stay down forever.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, a single man roamed Ikebukuro, with hands in the pockets of his pants and blond hair falling over his brown eyes.

His head was down, clearly in deep thought. After a while, he brought an old switchblade worn from use. The bartender opened and closed it, looking at the weapon with a mixture of contempt and slight sadness. He threw it up and caught it easily, but the weight of his guilt and his doubt made it so much heavier than it really was.

The male had found it several months ago during the aftermath of the incident. It was left abandoned on the streets, the owner nowhere to be found. Ikebukuro was a different without him, but right here in the hands of the man that almost the blade’s wielder, was a piece of Izaya that he could not get rid of.

To Shizuo, it was a sign of hope, of a chance that maybe the flea was out there and breathing. It was a chance that he wasn’t a killer. The bodyguard hated the informant, but the pain would be worth it. Anything would be better than this.

Cold brown eyes reflected back up at him from the glint of the blade.

 

 

He was slipping, piece by piece.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There hasn't been much of Shizuo, but I really wanted to add him back in, especially with the huge effect he had on Izaya's change. They both have such a big effect on each other, and this fic isn't complete without showing some opinions from both sides of the spectrum.  
> That knife that Shizuo had held on until the moment he gave it back to Izaya, that really is a huge symbol of who he was. Shizuo is holding on to who Izaya was in a sense, while Izaya is struggling with the present in another country. Shizuo doesn't know how much he's changed and that knife, something that has been present in all of their battles was left behind in their last one. It's just so final. And because Izaya left it behind, just like he had left behind the entire city, he's also leaving behind those fights with Shizuo because that definitely isn't what their relationship us about now. They can't go back to those times at all.  
> And also, on Izaya being suicidal, that amount of uncertainty and self-hatred would drive someone to think that. I think it's pretty ironic that I made him suicidal seeing as he was always the one to be mocking other suicidal people and he still ended up like them. (but not at the same time)
> 
> Thanks for reading~!


	6. The Change is Like Dying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updating in several months and I suck at consistently posting, lets just leave it at that 
> 
> Chapter Title- Night Must End by Sleeping At Last

 

**\---**   
_Let the ashes fall  
 **\---**_

 

Ikebukuro.

 

 

What was Ikebukuro? Saying it was simply a city wasn’t enough. That didn’t do it enough justice. Layer upon layers created its identity. To some, it was home, and to others, it was just a place where they lived and worked. Ikebukuro was where both the ordinary and extraordinary coexisted, much like oil and water. They were parts of a whole that never quite mixed together.

From time to time however, their actions took the world by storm, destroying the natural rhythm of their daily lives. Even now, three months after the night the city fell into chaos, the people who were involved only had pieces of the massive pictures of a single event that had changed all of their lives one way or another. Everyone moved on to the best of their abilities, but the tameness of Ikebukuro was only a testament to the inevitable.

 

It was the calm before the storm.

* * *

“Yumacchi! Look at this!” Erika hollered in the back, thrusting a light novel in his face.

Kadota smiled slightly as he glanced at the car mirror, getting a glimpse of the two pointing and laughing at something on the pages. Random sound effects and loud yelling accompanied their frantic rustling. He couldn’t tell whether this was just the pair being their usual over-enthusiastic selves or their way of avoiding a topic they didn’t want to talk about. They were just as hard to read as they were when they were part of Blue Squares.

Things were changing; everyone in that van could feel it driving down every road of the shady city. Kyouhei wouldn’t consider his gang as key participants on Ikebukuro’s chessboard, at least not compared to the infamous second-coming of the Raira trio, but they were always involved. In one way or another, they managed to find themselves thrust into the craziness.

The four of them had always been conscious of the fate of the city, yet after the night the city had fallen apart on their watch, they had become even more aware of the power shifts. With Izaya’s notable absence, the influence that once draped over the population weakened. He once held Ikebukuro in the palm of his hands, and now, Orihara Izaya was gone, leaving a void that needed to be filled. Everyone wondered what was next, considering it wouldn’t stay empty for long.

And maybe that was what scared them the most.

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

“Dotachin?” Erika poked her head through the gaps of the two front seats.

His eyes flickered to her open, curious ones. “What is it?”

“I keep trying to ignore it, but it can’t just be me that feels this way. Everything just feels so weird! For some reason, the present feels like some type of dystopian universe, and not in a good way like virtual reality or something,” she said quietly, which was extremely out of character for her usual perky self.

“Don’t worry, I totally get it, I keep expecting a vending machine to fly up any moment while Shizuo screams ‘Izaya’ from three blocks down,” Saburo chimed in, nodding twice in agreement.

“Izaya disappearing hasn’t exactly completely stopped Shizuo’s rampages,” Walter mumbled with his head buried in a edition of Shounen Jump.

Kyohei rolled his eyes. “I doubt there’s anyone that could stop that.” He tilted his head in consideration. “Actually, I feel like they’ve gotten even worse with him gone. At least with Orihara-kun, he was sly enough to stay alive.”

“Keyword: _was,_ huh?” Karisawa tugged at a piece of loose hair. “Do any of you think that he’s still alive?”

Kadota thought  about it all the damn time, just like how all of them probably did. He always tried to protect the city and _that_ man was a constant threat to the peace he tried to maintain. Something about his disappearance felt off. There was no body to be found, and until then, Kadota would keep an eye out for a certain information broker lurking around Ikebukuro. Although, the chances of him returning to his former job were basically impossible.

He settled for a different answer however. “Who’s to say really? We only saw parts of the fight and overheard some of the rumours. All of us just speculate how it truly ended. But either way, dead or alive, he has nothing to do with Ikebukuro anymore. There hasn’t been any sign of him since that night.” Kyohei paused, ”However, if our involvement is needed once more, you’ll all be here, right?”

The other three nodded in agreement. Erika spoke up. “He better not come and threaten Ikebukuro again. Orihara-kun was also making some questionable threats against Anri-chan. If he does that --” She tightened her fist, “Ooh I’m going to hurt him!”

Yumasaki waved his magazine in the back. “I’ll help too!!”

“Oh, how are they by they way?” Kadota asked.

“They’re moving on with their lives. She said that they all just want to put everything behind them. I’ve heard that Mikado-kun and Anri-chan are dating, but I haven’t asked them yet. It’s like a shoujo love story!” She exclaimed, waving her arms around.

He nodded. “When you’ve confirmed it, tell them congratulations for me.”

“Sure!” Erika chirped, retreating into the back with Yumasaki.

Regardless of whether a person would dwell on the past or not, the present was the only thing that mattered, and time would keep moving through it all. Things changed given time and maybe, wherever this universe was headed, the events that lay in store would change things for the better.

* * *

 

  
“Mikado?” A small voice spoke up in the darkness of the night.

The boy shifted and blinked the sleep away. “Hmm?”

“Uhm, I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while,” Anri paused, “but how did you deal with letting Dollars go that easily?”

“Simple. I didn’t,” he said, propping up an arm to look at his girlfriend.

“What?!  But you were so calm…” she trailed off with confusion thick in her voice.

Mikado sat up, deciding that it would just be easier to meet Anri’s gaze. “I just learned to not let anything betray my emotions. Dollars caused many problems for the city, which was not my intent for the group at all. They were meant to do good, but because there were some that used our name for their own purposes, I had to say goodbye.”

Anri pulled herself up and rested her head on his shoulder as he continued to speak. “I tried to fix it, yet it obviously didn’t turn out that way. I’m sure there are still many people that are unhappy with my choice. I know that I can’t please everyone, and at the end of the day, what happened to Dollars was my choice. There are good people that belonged to Dollars and it gives me hope to know that they are still out there, no matter how it turned out.”

“Well then, would you change anything? Do you think it would have turned out differently?” Anri asked quietly.

He wrapped an arm around her waist. “We are who we are because of the past. Those are the building blocks to the people we will become up until we die. Everything we did before because of how naive we are, and we’ve grown to become wiser. I would never change that. Human beings are flawed and because we are flawed, we can grow and continue to grow as people. Why change your past when you can make your future better? How about you Anri?”

Anri hummed, thinking about her answer. “I wouldn’t change anything. No turning back right? Isn’t that what the three of us agreed on?”

“That’s right. We did do that.” Mikado smiled faintly, before it faded into a thoughtful expression, “And well, to be completely honest, there isn’t too much for me to look back on from that night. My memories are too vague to piece anything concrete together.”

“I doubt anyone had the whole story of what had happened. Too many things happened at once, and it all ended in the classic explosive Ikebukuro way,” she said, trying to ease his racing thoughts. The conversation halted as they both were lost in their own thoughts.

Mikado was the first to break the silence. “I have a question for you.”

Anri pulled away far enough to look into his greyish-blue eyes. “What is it?”

“Now that both Orihara-san and Dollars are gone, both main forces in Ikebukuro, what do you think is going to happen now?” he asked, fisting the white sheets in his hand.

She looked at him with concern. “You sound ominous Mikado…”

 

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The room darkened as the moon was covered by drifting cloud. “It’s just that- there’s no one at the top, and we both know it isn’t going to stay empty for long.”

* * *

 

  
Shizuo had finally achieved the peace he had always wanted.

 

Most people had lost the nerve to confront him, and the ones who did had learned their lesson on the first offense. They were too beat up to call the cops or attempt to attack him again. With a certain flea gone, he wasn’t being harassed every other day. The people on Tanaka’s list were now much too wary, especially with the ‘incident’ having only just died down. Even now he could hear the whispers, but it was better than any direct accusations. 

It was calm, so why then-- why did it feel so wrong?

 

This silence, this unsettling stillness felt awkward and foreign. Shizuo told himself that it was an exaggeration and that he was just overreacting, but there really was nothing he could do to push it away successfully. The feeling would lurk in the back of his mind and linger on all the streets he walked by. Izaya’s absence was more prominent than when he was known to be alive. It was only ever possible to notice how someone affected your life when they were gone.

 

“Shizuo!!”

“What?!” he snapped reflexively at Tanaka, whose eyes widened slightly with surprise.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes. I was going to ask if you were okay, but if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine too.” He wasn’t angry or even remotely displeased. Instead, it was obvious Tanaka was concerned, which only made Shizuo feel worse.

Looking down, he sighed, releasing some of the buildup of stress weighing him down. It was only a temporary solution to his volatile state, but it would serve its purpose for now. Shizuo forced his eyes to meet Tanaka’s. His expression was one of a berated child’s. “I’m sorry Tanaka-san. I just got distracted and I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

 

It was more than that though. Distraction implied it was a small problem, that it wasn’t much and didn’t affect him much in the long run. Well it did. There was so much more to it. Thoughts he refused to hear-- things he didn’t want to believe, plagued him from sunrise to sundown. And even after he went to sleep, the nightmares followed him too. Shizuo couldn’t outrun himself, which made his mind a greater enemy than Izaya ever was over the years.

 

“Varona’s departure didn’t help at all huh?” Tanaka asked, trying to draw out anything from the sullen man across from him. He could tell his partner was closing up.

“I wasn’t going to stop her, and I know neither would you. She has the right to do whatever she wants. It just so happened it was after that whole mess. I can’t blame her for wanting to go back, wherever she’s going-”

Tanaka tapped his fingers on the table. “I think it was Russia? Or US, something like that.”

“Well, I guess that doesn’t matter too much. I can always just ask her through a letter or something. Varona always liked her old-fashioned ways, even if she never wanted to admit it. The point is, maybe it’s safer for her to leave while we all just lie low a bit longer as the aftermath passes,” Shizuo concluded.

 

His fingers itched to light a cigarette and his lungs burned for the poisonous, yet soothing, rush of nicotine to flow through him. He fought back as much as he could, but he ended up succumbing to the urge.

 

“Hasn’t it blown over at this point?” Tanaka cast a side glance at Shizuo, who was focused on puffing out a grey cloud that dissipated into the air.

“It’s over until someone, or even me, does something that gets plastered all over the news. Nothing is truly finished, and I’ve gone through enough to be able to testify that fact,” the bodyguard responded with an undertone of dejection and reluctant acceptance.

Tanaka noticed how Shizuo really was having a hard time and changed the topic. He wasn’t a shrink, but the least he could do is try and help his friend, even in the slightest. “Do you still have it?”

Shizuo took another drag of his smoke and looked at him with some confusion. “Have what?”

“Izaya’s knife.” The tax collector noticed the other man tense up. “You had it after the flashbang right?”

 

It had been left behind, and he hadn’t made any effort to get rid of it. Something inside of him told him to just keep it as purposeless as it was. Maybe he liked to torture himself with it, or maybe it was just the fact that it was a reminder of every battle he and Izaya ever engaged in. Whatever the reason, he chose his answer carefully.

 

“No I don’t. I threw it in the trash, right where Izaya belongs.” Shizuo allowed distaste to color his lies. It was stupid to conceal the truth, but it was just too personal for him to explain, not as if he could put it into words anyways. The knife was a sort of secret as well, a secret he wanted no one privy to.

It was impossible tell if Tanaka believed him, but the older man didn’t push him, which was a quality that Shizuo appreciated. “What happened to Izaya was not your fault, and it was not your responsibility,” he said seriously.

Shizuo laughed bitterly. “I’d love to say it wasn’t, believe me. He had provoked me over and over, and even until the end the louse had an upper hand, but I still have a part in this. I allowed myself to answer to those taunts and I never truly made an effort to end the discourse between us. Izaya dragged it on, but I started it. I threw the first punch, and we are both guilty in the end.”

 

 

He was guilty of not giving Izaya a chance.

He was guilty of the violence he had always hated.

He was guilty of killing a man, despite the fact that he deserved it.

And most of all, Shizuo was guilty of being unable to connect with the one person who could have understood him. Maybe it was his inability to see deeper and find the fragile human being who was so alike his outcast self.

 

But regardless of that all, Izaya had succeeded in what he had set to do.

 

  

Shizuo was a monster, and even he himself believed it.

* * *

  
**[Four days after the fall of Ikebukuro]**

 

Most days with Shinra passed away lazily; watching television in his arms, playing video games, reading or chatting away on the computer with the likes of Kanra,Tanaka, and Saika. After her carrier job or any other random task Izaya sent her on, along with other clients that had been referred to her services, Celty’s life was fairly ordinary, for a supernatural being such as her. From time to time, Shinra would need to stitch the occasional gang member. Even Izaya and Shizuo would come in, although never at the same time. Even through the grim times Shinra had been able to stay calm and positive about the future, but after the incident he had become anything but that.

 

“Ne, Celty, can you pass me the list of addresses from the sofa? I think that's where I last left it,” the doctor called, glued to the computer, where he had been since three in the morning.

  
She walked over and grabbed the sheet of paper, covered in pen marks, crossing out numerous lines of text. However, instead of simply giving it to Shinra, she thrust her phone in front of the screen. _[You’ve been obsessively searching for him for almost a week! How do you know he’s not dead?!]_

Shinra took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, spinning in the chair to look at Celty. “Orihara-kun-, no... Izaya, would never let himself die that easily. I’ve known him since middle school! If he was that weak-willed, Shizuo would have already killed him already. With no body, I refuse to believe he’s dead.”

Celty placed the paper on his desk and typed something else on her phone. _[Let’s say he is alive, because I do believe in your conviction if not anything else, what will you do when you find him?]_

“Ha!” the doctor barked humorlessly. “To be honest, I don’t really know. However, what I _do_ know is that he _needs_ to stop playing these games with everyone. We aren’t just pawns in some sick, twisted game he likes to play! We’re living beings that talk and breathe and _exist;_ we aren’t just motionless pieces to be toyed with, no matter what he believes!” He spoke quietly, but passionately, as the words he had usually tried so hard to conceal spilled out into the open.

“I’ve been friends with him for so long and I have been letting his schemes slide, but even I have limits. I have had _enough_ of simply watching Izaya do whatever he wants just for the hell of it.”

Shinra grabbed the dullahan’s hand gently, smiling softly at her. “We both know that I would become a villain for you Celty. I would go against the _world_ for you, and I would do it every _damn_ time if it meant you were with me.” His smile faded as he continued, “Izaya endangered you- he endangered all of us, and almost succeeded in destroying the city. I’m the only one that’s going to be able to find him. I’m also the only one that could be able to get through to him.

“Here’s when I become the bad guy Celty.” Her shadows flickered faster, and he could feel her clear disagreement radiating off in waves.

“Ikebukuro is almost like a home to him, although I doubt he’s realized it. I doubt he’s realized how weak he is, sitting up in that glass box of his and looking down on all of us. Izaya hasn’t realized that maybe there was no need to become that jaded, that maybe being weak was okay because if he had admitted his weakness, we would have understood and made him stronger. However, those are just maybes.”

 

Celty could see how much Izaya meant to Shinra, as the more he denounced his friend, the faster he talked; almost like the sooner he said it, the sooner it could be over.

 

“This is reality, and I am facing it head on.” With his jaw set and chin up, Shinra closed his eyes and pulled himself together. “If he came back, the chances of him doing it again, continuing to make the same mistakes over and over while simultaneously hurting everyone around me, are still _so_ high. Izaya needs to learn from what he’s done, and coming back to Ikebukuro isn’t going to help him do that. This isn’t fair anymore.”

“I draw the line here, and he needs to stay on his side of that line.”

 _[Which means…?]_ Celty asked, using her free hand.

“I refuse to willingly welcome Izaya back here again, not until I know he’s changed. That doesn’t mean it’s impossible, because I do think that he can. I have enough faith in him for that. This is a journey he needs to take on his own, and whether he fails or pushes past this is completely up to him.” Shinra pulled away as he took the list and folded into a neat rectangle, tucking it in his coat.

_[Do you think he will?]_

He laughed, as inappropriate the timing was, taking some of the grim mood away with it. “It’s Orihara Izaya we’re talking about. I’m never sure what he’s going to do, but the unexpected has always been synonymous with his name. At the end of the day, we’ve all got to understand that things have changed, and like it or not, he was still leading that massive shift in this city. That doesn’t excuse his behaviour, but he’s still my friend. I have mixed feelings about the results of that night, yet I think this inevitable may have been for the better.”

_[You’re a good person Shinra.]_

Shinra tilted his head. “Am I really? I’m still so grey Celty, but you make my world bright with so much color.” He stood up and made his way to their door.

She stood to the side, waiting for him to put his shoes on. _[Of course. I will always be there. Do you need any help finding him?]_

“I think it’s better if I find him on my own, but I appreciate the offer.”

 

_[Good luck.]_

* * *

   
One day Ikebukuro was on its knees, and a week later it was as if nothing had ever happened, at least on the surface.

Underneath, it couldn’t have been any more different. There was no forgetting what had happened. In one way or another, city life had been altered. Borders that were never meant to been passed over were, and in order to stay safe, unforeseen alliances were formed between people whose only commonality was the desire to survive. Those connections were temporary and fragile, but because of it, they survived. Radio silence followed, which was to be expected. Only speculations and curiosity spawned from it, and those who truly knew what happened kept their mouths shut.

 

Two individuals, whose paths were never meant to cross would meet, just once, and only once.

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

“Sushi! Come inside for sushi!” Broken Japanese called over busy streets and other conversations.

A calm voice spoke over the cacophony. “I’ll go inside, _if_ you come and talk with me.”

The Russian looked down at a boy with mild curiosity, “Oh really?”

 

He nodded once.

 

“Hm. Okay. Only for a little bit.” The man agreed, tucking the pamphlets he was holding under his arm.

“That’s fine. It shouldn’t take long anyways.”

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

 

A large platter of colorful and bizarre ingredients were set in front of the boy. He could see cream cheese, eggs, vegetables, all strange concoctions mixed in with the classic sushi. Maybe it would have been safer to go with the soba.

 

“Well, go on and eat.” Large hands beckoned. “Speak afterwards.”

He opened his chopsticks and picked up a piece of pickled daikon radish, holding it up carefully before eating it. “Hey mister, have you heard about what’s been happening recently with the underground?”

Unblinking, the Russian answered, “What are you talking about?”

“You were involved in that incident too, weren’t you? I would have liked to talk about it with- well, his name doesn’t matter, but he’s withdrawn from the scene. But I can’t exactly do that, you see. There are a few people I’d like to be able to keep out of harm’s way, and I was wondering if you have heard any rumours that may help me.” The boy sounded sincere, but his blue eyes were guarded and his body was just ever-so-slightly tensed and rigid.

“Disturbances, huh? The only thing that is being disturbed is your appetite.” Once again, the topic was brushed over.

“Gang members are vanishing to work for an unknown third-party. There must be something on that.” He laid down a piece of information, risking his neck for something- anything.

 

Immediately, the atmosphere grew tense.

 

“You don’t say these types of things in public. Closed doors are best. Watch what you say boy.” The older man said. It bordered on dangerous, but he would not be deterred.

“Well, it’s hard to gain knowledge being below a legal age anyways. Public is where you learn these types of things.” He grabbed another piece he deemed safe enough to eat.

“There is no need for you to be Izaya.” The russian responded gruffly.

“That’s not what my instincts tell me. Plus, I can’t help it. It’s too risky for me to simply shake off my habits just like that.” The boy shrugged.

“I can respect that you want to protect his sisters, but there are always different ways to go about it. You do not need to follow his dark road. Perhaps laying low is the best choice for you now.” There was a quiet undertone of command that the younger male could pick up on.

“I won’t end up like him,” he said seriously.

“People do not stay the same. Eventually he will not be like himself either. You will change too, and not in the sense of physical growth. There is no use in trying to find another piece of chaos to unleash. For now, simply staying alert and not opening Pandora’s box is enough.”

 

The high schooler set his chopsticks down, pausing to think about what had been said. It wasn’t what he was looking for, but there were other places he could go to.

 

After a short while, a mop of dark blue nodded again. “Okay.”

Simon smiled. “Good.”

Something occurred to the boy. “The way you speak about Orihara-san, it’s as if he’s alive.”

“You don’t think so?” The Russian asked.

 

 

Aoba tilted his head, look at the cryptic man before him. “I wonder…

 

* * *

 

 

Orihara Izaya did not, does not, regret anything.

 _Never_.

 

Life happened and things were bound to go wrong. Sometimes humanity took a turn and his plans went awry. It was nothing. Izaya always bounced back with a smirk on his face, along with a plan much better than the last. So, why was there an ache in his chest, a nagging little feeling that made him wonder and emotionally analyze the events that had conspired only hours earlier?

Wait, no- that was just the excruciating pain that came with his wounds, at least he hoped. Drifting in and out of vivid nightmares, or recollections (because Izaya was far too proud to admit that Shizuo had won that battle), wasn’t doing very well for his ability to comprehend anything logically. He was too busy suffering in the solitude hell in the back seat.

 

Izaya was alive, and so was Shizuo.

 

To be honest, he still hadn’t completely accepted or processed that fact yet. He had meant to fight the protozoan to the death. Izaya was prepared to die in order to kill that monster once and for all.

But he didn’t. And because he was in that car with an ally and someone who was only a victim in one of his schemes, breathing in the cool air and sustaining severe injuries, he knew he had failed. That was never an option in that plan. Izaya had rolled the dice and swore that he would play until the very end, or so he thought. It was over, and the raven was far from being the victor.

Was it because he expected it was the end that he recklessly turned around to face the monster down instead of running away? Or was it because Izaya was tired of being a coward, and he wanted to leave Shizuo’s life and reputation in the wake of his destruction? Maybe it was because of a tiny piece of him deep inside, no matter how small, that knew that he needed to face the consequences of what he had done in the past, even if it meant that the result would be his own literal death.

 

In a way, Izaya had died a long time ago, before any of it began crashing down around him. He lost track of who he was, and here he was, doing the same thing all over again.

 

Izaya didn’t regret. Life happened, and he just needed to keep moving forward. However, questioning, doubting, wondering, rethinking, were all separate from regret. Regret meant he would take back his actions, which was something he couldn’t even begin to imagine. Izaya got to the places he had been and gone farther than he would have if he remained in the past. He refused to take back his mistakes.

But, there was no stopping his mind from going into dark alleys. With this upset to his plans, Izaya needed his thoughts and plans to regroup in order to build them back up once again. What did he need to do to be successful next time? Where did it go wrong? Why did it end up like this? Did it need to? He found himself feeling nostalgia for a time that never happened, but came to the conclusion that he still preferred the reality he was stuck in.

People would continue to live, even as the world they once knew become something else entirely. He couldn’t stop that, nor did he want to. Izaya knew that things would never go back to what it was; he understood that fact as he watched Ikebukuro fade from his window.

 

 

 

This was him walking away from the city he loved.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this, only the epilogue is left and that's the end of this fic. Damn. This idea has been rolling around in my head for such a long time wow. My favourite part about this chapter is Shinra and Mikado's rants because they are such reserved characters and writing about them spilling out everything that has stayed pent up inside of them is just so cathartic and fun to do. It just builds and builds until their only choice is out. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


	7. Love the Aftertaste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, here it is- the end, the conclusion of Midnight Oil
> 
> Chapter Title- All Time Low by Jon Bellion

A warm breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees braced against the reddish-orange sky. The final hints of light began to give way to the dark blue night. Bells rung gently as the cows lazily walked by, nudging their noses at the warm wooden fence. The farmhouse door was opened slightly, propped open with a large rock. 

Warm yellowish light streamed outside close to Izaya’s feet. He rocked the porch swing slightly as he kept his eyes glued on the sunset. He could hear Manami inside, ordering Shizuo and Kine around as the kitchen tap sputtered and the china clanked against one another. It was like he never even left Russia in the first place. Just like his apartment back in Japan, things more or less stayed the same. They were places that he could come back to without being left behind by everyone else- places of familiarity more or less.

 

The door creaked open a bit as Manami stepped outside. “Do you want some leftover sushi? Kine saved some fatty tuna for you,” she said as she took a seat beside him. 

“I’m fine. You stuffed me with enough food already.” The edges of his lips quirked up. “Just because I’m naturally skinny doesn’t mean I’m not taking care of myself.”

“Oh hush, I know for a fact that when you get caught up in your work, you skip meals,” Manami countered, nudging her shoulder with his. “I’m just making sure you stay healthy.”

“Alright alright,” he responded, raising his hands in surrender. The conversation would’ve kept going if he continued to answer back anyways. Plus, with one sideways glance at the girl, Izaya could tell that there was more behind the reason why she came outside. He waited patiently, allowing her time to start talking.

“You know… I used to worry what would happen when you went back to Ikebukuro.” The teasing was gone from her voice now. “After spending so many months with you and seeing you slowly recover, I guess… I was  _ scared…? _ I thought that if you went back, you might get hurt again.” She looked down at her feet. “That upset me more that I cared to think.”

 

Izaya smirked slightly. “Guess you fell for my charm too huh.”

Manami punched him in the arm before rolling her eyes. “Charm,  _ my ass _ . You don’t have a charming bone in your body.” They both laughed a little, with Izaya nursing his now sore arm, which he should have seen coming honestly.

 

“Well anyways, me and Kine knew that you needed to go back eventually,” she continued. “While Russia helped you recuperate to a certain extent, it seemed like you were still lost. When you told us about the message that you received, we could already tell that you were set on going before you yourself knew. The fire in your eyes was relit, and I guess it makes sense. You hadn’t gotten closure yet. The incident would’ve continued to haunt you.”

 

With all the complaining that Manami had originally done, it surprised Izaya a little bit to see how much she actually noticed. It was easier for the people close to him to see what was on his sleeve. His heart wasn’t something privy to many, and here he was, watching her deconstruct what he acted like before.

 

“When we saw you at the wedding, I could tell that you were in the midst of rediscovering yourself. And well, I’m really glad you left Russia, even if the journey to saving Ikebukuro, and understanding who exactly Orihara Izaya is, was rocky and dangerous.” 

 

Back then, Izaya would have never been able to foresee that someone he hurt so badly in the past would come to forgive him, but just existing in this moment was a testament to the fact that it was indeed possible. 

 

“I mean, that’s not to say I could completely forget about what you did to me- because I really did hate you with my entire being-” He snickered a bit at that part, knowing that he absolutely deserve that poke, “But having worked under you, and seeing you in a different light, opened my eyes. When I saw you as weak I as used to be before, and being a little bit more transparent with your emotions, it slowly changed my mind.”

She breathed in audibly, then exhaled just as loud. “To be frank, you were an asshole for tricking me like that...  _ but, _ I can’t deny that you helped me out of a slump in a roundabout way,” Manami said reluctantly. “I came with you to Russia because I wanted to pay you back for that. And well, it turned out more fun than I thought it would be”

Izaya smirked. “I’m really good at being a pain, just ask Shizu-chan. I see the general consensus is that I was a terrible person. But anyways…” He became more serious, “I know I’ve done so many shitty things in the past, and there really is no way to make up for all of them- but thank you for helping me get back onto my feet and continuing to be there, even after all of that.”

“I used to want to get revenge on you and make you suffer, but you’ve been in pain long enough. Struggling through this has been your punishment, and well, you deserve to be happy. You’ve truly earned the people in your life.” Manami smiled at him, looking straight into his crimson eyes, as if the truth didn’t ring in her words enough.

 

Just as Izaya was about to respond back, the farmhouse door opened up again. This time, Shizuo poked his head through the gap. Both Manami and Izaya turn their heads towards him. “Ah, sorry if I interrupted something.”

Izaya waved a hand. “No, it’s okay. What is it?”

“Kine-san is setting up setting up a movie in the living room. I’ve put some popcorn in the microwave too. I don’t really know how much we’re going to eat though... since we just had dinner and all,” Shizuo added at the end. 

Manami stood up excitedly. “Don’t underestimate the power of some good buttered popcorn!” she exclaimed, pushing the door fully open and slipping inside. Shizuo stepped outside during this exchange to give way to her. “Are you going to come inside Izaya?” she asked. 

He shook his head. “I think I’m going to stay out here a bit longer.”

That was to be expected from him. “And you Shizuo?” 

“I think I’ll stay out here too,” Shizuo responded, catching Izaya’s eye. 

“Okay!” she chirped. “Make sure you go inside before you two catch a cold, and keep it pg-13 for the children please!” Manami raised an eyebrow at Izaya, who flipped her back. She laughed a little before letting the door close behind her, leaving a tiny crack open.

 

“That girl…” Izaya muttered, moving a bit more since Manami’s spot wouldn’t be enough for Shizuo’s long legs.

“It’s funny to see how easily she can talk to you like that,” Shizuo said, plopping down on the swing. His arm hung over the side of the bench. “Yuki would’ve loved to balance on the railings on the porch, and there’s plenty of space for her to explore.”

Izaya stretched his arms above his head. “Well, the flight here would have made Yuki extremely grumpy. I suppose the space is nice, but there’s a great chance of me losing her. Anyways, Celty and Shinra are pretty good at taking care of here.” A short pause followed, before he began to speak again.“I missed this- being here,” Izaya said wistfully. 

Shizuo glanced at him, giving a slight smile. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a farm boy,” he joked.

“Well, there were a lot of things we don’t know about each other,” Izaya wryly shot back.

 

 

_ Misunderstandings. Lies. Facades. Anger. Antipathy. Destruction. Near-death. _

 

“From high school to this... we’ve been through a lot huh.”

 

“But if we didn’t, then we wouldn’t be here today. Mistakes were made, and I- we, can’t erase that.” Izaya paused, thinking about what he had said to Manami. “And well, I’ve apologized to you about the past, but I don’t think I’ve said thank you.”

“What for?” Shizuo asked, turning to him with questioning eyes.

“You’re the one that pushed for a change between us. You’re the one who said that we should start over and try again, even when I was being stubborn. Even after I kept shooting you down, even if I didn’t feel like that was something I could allow myself to do in fear of ruining it again- you still gave me that chance.”

“Guilt drove me. I instantly shut you out when we met, and in a way, this is redemption. Plus, thinking that I was the one who killed you, and then finding out you were alive was really  _ my  _ second chance to set things right.” Shizuo frowned. “I’m not a character whose actions are inherently correct.”

“If you’re saying that, I must be an angel,” Izaya snorted. “Plus… it doesn’t matter what your motivations were. We’re both responsible for being unable to settle our conflicts until the worst came to pass. But regardless, we still got to start over and begin to heal, and for that, I’m glad. So thank you.” Izaya rested his head on Shizuo’s shoulder, looking off at the scenery before him.

 

He didn’t respond, or more like, Shizuo didn’t know how to respond, so he simply settled for drawing Izaya closer to him. It was a simple gesture, but both of them knew that this was more than that. And while they could have both easily have overthought the implications of this, they settled for just enjoying each other’s company.

 

 

* * *

 

To answer Djinn’s question, Izaya did know the meaning of happiness, although it was doubtful he could ever articulate the words perfectly. He didn’t understand that he had before, but after all that had happened, he had learned to open his eyes, and his heart.

 

 

Happiness cannot be manufactured. 

 

 

It wasn’t in the hallucinations Djinn had, or in Zeruan. Nothing could show you the path to happiness, it was to be found on your own. 

The joy he felt from toying with others in his past, the manipulation, the schemes- it was all short lived. Maybe he should have known that those feelings were hollow. Satisfaction, amusement, twisted curiosity were the only things he felt. They were all just placebos for the real thing. 

 

Playing for the right side, for the right people, was a step in the right direction. When he began to gain the trust of the people who once saw him as the enemy, it was another step. Izaya had changed, and because of that, so did the way he saw the world. At first, they were simply allies, but as he spent more time with them, Izaya had realized that they were beginning to be friends. 

_ Friends.  _ That seemed like a novel thought a long time ago, but it had come to pass. Saving Ikebukuro was the turning point, if he had to place one. Izaya had managed to avoid Shizuo until then. Once again, he needed to re-examine his feelings, to scrutinize them until he simply had to take a leap of faith. Izaya struggled, and in that anguish, he found moments where he was truly happy.

 

 

 

Happiness was not the destination; it was in journey to get where he was now. 

 

 

_ Throwing knives and running on rooftops in Russia. _

_ Having dinner with Manami and Kine. _

_ Going back to his apartment (as bittersweet as it was.) _

_ The surprise when Celty decided to trust him. _

_ Working. _

_ The feeling of victory when the bombs had been disarmed (and the subsequent feeling feeling of joy knowing that they saved the city after he woke up in Shinra’s apartment) _

_ Shinra forgiving him. _

_ The Guild being worried. _

_ Hugging his sisters again (and in turn letting himself feel these emotions) _

_ Getting to play at Shinra and Celty’s wedding (they were so happy) _

_ Meeting up with Kine and Manami again. _

_ Starting things over with Shizuo (and simply having a conversation with him) _

_ Finding Yuki. _

_ Having that mini birthday celebration with Kadota, Shinra, Celty and Shizuo (then falling asleep on Shizuo’s lap, although he would rather die than admit that to Shinra) _

_ Being chased around the city by Shizuo. _

_ Playing the piano with him. _

_ Kissing Shizuo (happy yes, but it was too surreal- to hate was easier than to love, and it was hard to shake that fact) _

_ Knowing that his friends came to save him, even in the middle of nowhere- risking their lives for him, even though he never asked for it. _

_ Going to visit Kine and Manami in Russia. _

 

And most of all  _ Shizuo. _

  
  


 

Izaya didn’t need to forget the past. He just needed to accept it, and from there, move forward. The past is the reason why he is who he is now. It had broken him, but he learned how to mend all those painful parts. There was no doubt in his mind that he would be hurt again, yet he didn’t fear it. 

 

The coward- _the raven_ , was willing to accept it all.

  
  
  
  
  


In the corner of his eye, Izaya saw his doppelganger smile at the conclusion that he had reached… before vanishing for good.

 

 

* * *

_Forget about me_  


* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I'd apologize for the time gap between these chapters, but I've done that for every single chapter in this fic ^^; 
> 
> It was really hard to conclude this story, mostly because I really had no idea how to tie in the ends for an amazing finale that was worth it all. My writing style has changed a lot since writing the first chapter, and seeing as the concept from Nocturnal was 'change,' it seems kind of fitting. Looking back at the beginning makes me cringe a little, but I don't want to go back and fix it.
> 
> One of my favourite things to mention in this was the twin/vision Izaya, because it was quite literally his past self. Moving on was a big part for my version, almost like the 5 Stages of grief, although the entire story was written in reverse (first chapter being right after the Zeruan incident) and etc. The past Izaya isn't the enemy per se, but he's something that wasn't resolved, wasn't dealt with.
> 
> I wanted to get into the head of Manami a little bit here, because while she didn't have a big role in either fic, she still helped Izaya begin to heal, and really, nothing would've happened if she and Kine didn't save him.
> 
> Ah, and Midnight Oil's title was supposed to be similar to Nocturnal (which was kind of obvious really haha)  
> (oh, and Djinn's question was "Do you know the meaning of happiness?")
> 
> \---
> 
> To Adargo, thank you for writing Nocturnal. It gave me the continuation that I really longed for, and the way you wrote the conflicts were absolutely brilliant. Izaya being shown as someone who could change, even though he originally seem unfixable, really stuck with me. I couldn't stop thinking about it, and this was born. There really is no way I can do it justice, but I really tried to anyways. I feel slightly guilty for only finishing it now, but I'm proud of the result. The ending didn't need to be complicated. It was short and bittersweet for me to finish writing, just as it was for me to read your fic. 
> 
> tldr: I'm a fangirl :))
> 
> \---
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!!<3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I'll be doing the entire song which will make this about 7 chapters!  
> The next chapter will be set in the canon timeline.
> 
> Song: House of Memories- Panic! At The Disco
> 
> (oh and yes I realize the song doesn't match the title, but the real theme song for this story is Let It Go- James Bay)


End file.
